


Artificial Everything

by Redd000



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redd000/pseuds/Redd000
Summary: Everything Sixty owned was a hand-me-down of Connor's: his body, his memories, his emotions... so, no. He didn't believe Hank actually wanted to do anything for his birthday. It was just another thing in his life he could mark down as a fake.





	Artificial Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [New ERA Birthday Big Bang](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm). Big thanks to Silver Fables, my artist for this project! I had fun :)

It had come as a surprise that Hank wanted to celebrate anything that involved Sixty - especially the day he had been activated. The official response when Sixty questioned the notion was: _“We went to the aquarium for Connor, dumbass! Why the hell wouldn’t we do something for you?”_

Sixty could name several reasons why Hank 'wouldn’t do something for him.' Hell, most of his examples fell on the same fucking day! Like the time Sixty had kidnapped and held Hank at gunpoint, nearly killed Connor, or how he had almost single-handedly stopped the android revolution and ruined the chance at freedom for the new species...

By all accounts, Hank, Connor, and even Nines should absolutely hate him.

Of course, he had voiced none of this to Anderson; instead, dumbly nodded in understanding. He even added an _'Ah!'_ for emphasis. As in _Ah, yes! Of course! How foolish of me to have jumped to conclusions despite all conceivable evidence validating my point.._. He had written the conversation off as a joke and had no intention of bringing it up again; especially in front of Connor or Nines lest his ‘brothers’ were in on it too. Sixty had lost a lot of things in the days after his deviancy but his pride was definitely not one of them.

Then Hank had brought it up again a few days later, and while Sixty could always admire the commitment and dedication to a prank, he was starting to get annoyed.

 _“Is there anything specific you wanna do for your B-Day, kid? Or are you gonna leave all that up to me?”_ Hank had asked. _“Between you and me, I’m not really good at party planning.”_

Oh, so it was a party now? He didn’t even have any friends! Who the hell would even come? _Amanda?!_

Hank must have thought he was an idiot. This was _definitely_ a joke. There was no way he was falling for something so stupid. His processor didn’t operate at full capacity anymore, but that didn’t mean he was dense. To Hank's question, he had responded with a wicked grin, _“I don’t want a party, old man. I don’t want anyone there. No Connor. No Nines. Just me and you. Plain and boring.”_

And they left it at that.

When Sixty had been activated, it hadn’t been for a purpose. Not really. Not _truly._ Not like Markus who had been tasked with elderly care, or Josh who had been a lecturer at a fucking university, or Connor who had been built to discover the cause of deviancy... no. Not like that. Sixty didn't get to be like that. Like them. They had all been built for something and they had been able to deviate from that something. They had a history, a past, a reason to hate.

Sixty had been thrown into a body that would have been Connor's had his predecessor decided to break during the deviancy mission, and Sixty had only deviated because he had been shot in the head. Shot because he couldn’t prove to Hank that he was Connor (there was irony in that, one that was not lost on him, considering the lengths he would go through to try and prove the exact opposite nowadays).

He hadn’t even been reactivated for anything special. Markus had wanted to prove that CyberLife was more an enemy to the people than they had been letting on, and a statement from Sixty (the last android that had been given a task from them) would have done wonders for the android lawsuit. They had forced him back online, the most advanced model CyberLife had to offer at the time, was now disconnected from every network available. He had died in the dark and he had woken up in it. A broken, offline, _failure._

Connor had taken him in out of pity. Jericho sure as hell didn’t want him. They would have been better off just killing him again instead of pretending to care about his well-being. That was how he had ended up with Connor and Hank and eventually Nines. A pity project under the guise of ‘reintegration.' Guilt, even in androids, was a terribly motivating thing.

He wondered if Hank would feel guilty for trying to trick him. For playing with his emotions. For pretending to care. He tried to tell himself that the ordeal didn't hurt, but his heart wasn't convinced. It wouldn't stop squeezing inside his chest, and there were times he felt physically ill when he thought too much about it. Still, he kept up appearances and he was going to keep them up until the horrible day had come to an end and the only one left feeling like an idiot was the lieutenant.

It was the day before his birthday and Hank and Connor were talking about him. Sixty didn’t normally care for other people's conversations, but the sound of his name had caught his attention. Hank wanted Connor’s opinion. What did Connor think Sixty might like to do or enjoy and how Hank: _“—had talked to North and Markus”_ and had learned about how _“—the kid’s implanted memories are fucking him up.”_

That wasn’t true. Not exactly. He knew those memories weren’t real. Knew that when he had downloaded them from Connor they had corrupted... somewhere. Somewhere in between getting shot in the fucking head and being forced to reactivate for the benefit of Markus and android-kind... they had merged into something else. Emotions. Emotions he hadn’t earned. They weren't real. They weren’t his. They had come from and belonged to Connor. He knew all of this.

It did nothing to lessen their intensity.

So, yes, okay... they were ‘fucking him up.’ He cared about Hank because _Connor_ cared about Hank, and even though Sixty knew that that is what was happening, he was incapable of separating his real emotions from the hand-me-down ones. Regardless of the truth behind it, the comment had caused Sixty to scoff and head for the backyard. That was roughly an hour ago and he was still sitting on the back porch, staring out into the yard with a bored expression, trying to process what the hell was going on.

He didn't look over when the door opened, nor when someone stepped out, but he knew it was Hank. He could tell because unlike his android 'siblings,' Hank tended to awkwardly stall and shift his weight whenever he wasn't being addressed. Normally, Sixty would cut him some slack but after the rollercoaster of emotions the android has been experiencing because of the old man lately, he was more than happy to let Anderson stew.   
  
“Hey, kid,” Hank finally said.. Sixty gave a soft grunt in acknowledgment but still didn’t look over. “Are you free to talk?”

Of course, he was. Hank knew that. Everyone knew that. Sixty was always free. He didn’t have a job, a hobby… he was like Sumo, really. The second house pet.

He nodded to Hank’s question. He didn’t have it in him to start a fight let alone win one. It wasn’t worth being snarky. Hank sat down beside him and let out an exhausted sigh. He ran his hand down his face before turning to the android.

“Listen, Six… I’m not even going to pretend I know what you’re going through. I’m not going to sit here and act like everything is okay because I know it’s not.” Sixty shifted in his seat but forced his expression to stay neutral. Leave it to Hank Anderson to get right to the fucking point.

“I appreciate the concern, Lieutenant,” Sixty started in the most stoic tone he could muster. A difficult task, under the circumstances. It annoyed him how emotional he felt whenever he tried to have a serious conversation with Hank. “But I—”

“—Now, hold on. Let me finish!” Hank said with a slight chuckle in his voice. Sixty pressed his lips together and pinched his nose in irritation but the sight just made Hank laugh again. “You’re a lot like him, you know? Your mannerisms?”

“I’m nothing like him,” Sixty said, nearly snapping.

“It wasn’t an insult. I love Connor.”

“I am _well_ aware.”

Hank’s smile faltered. “You have a lot of animosity toward him. It’s concerning.”

“Did you come out here to lecture me?”

“No. I came out here to talk. It’s… long overdue, actually.” Hank sighed again. It sounded just as exhausted as the first one. “I know you don’t think your emotions towards me are real—”

“They’re not,” Sixty interrupted. “They’re not real. They belong to Connor. Everything… _everything_ belongs to Connor. My ‘animosity’ probably stems from that, Lieutenant. I have no real emotions. No memories with anyone—especially you. Because even though I can recall absolutely _everything_ down to the finest detail, I haven’t actually _done_ anything with you.”

Besides the kidnapping and attempted murder, of course. Not something either of them would be willing to share at parties.

“That uh… kinda brings me to my point, actually,” Hank said. “Why don’t we try to… make some? Me and you? Memories, I mean… real ones. Like the stuff I did with Connor.” Sixty cast the lieutenant a dubious look and Hank soon added, “It’s actually why I’ve been pushing for this birthday thing.”

_“What?”_

“Well, I mean…” Hank looked so uncomfortable. “Sure, we got off to a bit of a rough start, but none of that was your fault. I can’t hold it against you— and I don’t… I just…”

He trailed off, throwing Sixty a sheepish look and a slight shrug as if that gesture was enough to fill in the missing information for the android. It wasn’t.

“What are you _talking_ about?” Sixty asked. He had stiffened and he crossed his arms as if bracing himself for a blow. Hank must have noticed because he was suddenly shaking his head. The old man was not good with expressing his emotions, a trait that Sixty both knew about and shared with him, but Hank never sat down and had these kinds of talks with anyone. 

Sixty watched as the lieutenant reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and black. A cube. A box. Hank started inspecting it, picking at the corners as he turned it over in his hand, feigning interest in order to pique Sixty's. The android raised an eyebrow in curiosity but didn’t uncoil from his position.

“I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but I’m not good with surprises and you would probably be better off with it now. I want you in my home just as much as I want Connor and Nines here, you know? I care about you too, Sixty.”

Sixty could feel the blue blush spreading across his cheeks, but he turned his head away in hopes of hiding it.

“Damn, Hank. If I had known you were going to go and grow a vagina I would have—”

He stopped when Hank offered him the box.

“Here. Take it. Open it.”

Sixty gave Hank an odd look but he took the box and opened it, discarding the lid like a Frisbee straight out into the yard. That earned a snort and an eye roll from the lieutenant but nothing else. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, Sixty was far too distracted on the object in the box. With an out-of-character delicacy, he pulled out a flawlessly chrome Zippo lighter from its foam mold. In the bottom right corner, engraved on the Zippo's face was his name: Sixty, spelled out in gorgeous cursive. It was crossing out the number 60, also engraved in the shiny chrome.

The android's hand started to tremble the longer he stared at it. It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. It was the most _beautiful_ thing he had ever owned.

“Check the bottom,” Hank said, nudging the android’s arm to gain Sixty’s attention. “It was a hard year to find, especially in that condition. Took a bit of searching but it was totally worth it.”

Sixty looked back at the lighter and turned it upside-down. He had to look up Zippo’s dating system, but when he did, and when he compared it to the one in his hand, he whimpered.

It was the month he had been activated. The year: 1960.

“Happy Birthday, kid,” Hand said before pulling him into a one-armed hug and squeezing. “I know it isn’t much, but—”

“It’s _perfect!”_ Sixty said, more to himself and with a lot more emotion than he would have normally intended. He didn’t care. He was incapable of caring. “It’s perfect and wonderful and so, so… I can’t even think of words!” He looked up at Hank with teary eyes. “This is for me?”

“It’s literally got your name on it, kid,” Hank said with a laugh. “Yes, it’s for you. I wasn’t sure what to get you, but I noticed you trying to play with your hands…”

 _Like Connor does with his coin._ The words weren’t spoken, but Sixty heard them anyway. It was something he berated himself for doing. Trying to play with a coin he didn’t have. Didn’t want, either… that was Connor’s thing and Sixty was not Connor.

Hank laughed again and gave the android another squeeze.

“You haven’t told me what you want to do tomorrow, but I promise it’ll just be me and you, alright?”

Just Hank and Sixty? Oh. _OH!_

_‘I don’t want a party, old man. I don’t want anyone there. No Connor. No Nines. Just me and you. Plain and boring.’_

Sixty’s processor started racing a mile a minute. Not a joke. It wasn’t a fucking joke! Hank was seriously going to spend time with him on his birthday—activation day— _whatever!_

“We can do anything?” Sixty asked. “Anything I want? Just me and you?”

Hank’s expression turned a little nervous and he gave a hesitant nod.

“I mean… within reason,” he said slowly. The android had a bit of a reputation for being… _eccentric_ in his activities. “Did you have something in mind?”

“I want to burn your clothes.”

Hank pulled back with a confused expression.

“One more time?”

“I want…” Sixty said, with more conviction than the emotional mess he had been just moments before. “To _burn_ your clothes. All of them. That entire god-forsaken, eyesore you call a wardrobe. I want to burn them all!”

“What the hell would I wear then?” Hank asked with a snort. “No one wants me running around here naked, kid. I can assure you of that.”

“While I’m sure that would be a charming sight, Lieutenant, I had something else in mind,” Sixty said with a wave of his hand, dismissing the previous statement. “I want to get you new stuff. _Nice stuff._ ”

Hank snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Nice try, kiddo, but it’s supposed to be a day for you.”

“It would be a day for me! _You_ wearing clothes that _I_ picked out for you? It would be the greatest day of my life!”

“What if I look terrible in them?”

“It doesn’t stop you now,” the android retorted. At Hank’s glare, he added, “I don’t know how Connor and Nines can claim to love you when they let you go outside dressed like a can of iced tea!”

“Oh, so you love me now?” Hank teasingly asked.

“My _point,”_ Sixty continued. His cheeks got noticeably darker, but he didn’t acknowledge that comment. “Is that going shopping with you _for_ you, would be the most _amazing_ thing in the world.”

Hank stared at the android with a dubious expression that was morphing more and more into a cringe the longer he started realizing how honest Sixty was being. Sixty knew the man hated shopping. It was why most of those tacky shirts came from grocery stores or gas stations or other shops where the blind made all the merchandise—

“You don’t have any alternatives?” Hank asked, speaking in a tone that suggested he wasn’t looking forward to shopping. Sixty’s lips pulled into a mischievously wicked grin. He twirled his new lighter in-between his fingers the same way Connor did with his coin, before flicking it open and lighting it.

“I mean…” he started as his attention darted to the flame. “If you’re really not up for it, I could probably play with my new toy on something else—”

“Shopping doesn’t sound so bad!” Hank quickly interjected. “We could probably catch a movie or something too. You know… boring things—like you said. Boring and _legal_ things?”

Sixty snapped his lighter shut and beamed up at the man he loved more than anything in the world. For the first time in his life, he didn't care that those feelings were borrowed.


End file.
